


Eternal Addiction

by PervyPenguin



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, No Sex, it's like... fluffly semi-angsty shmoop, possibly nsfw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-10
Updated: 2016-07-10
Packaged: 2018-07-22 18:22:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7449466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PervyPenguin/pseuds/PervyPenguin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once a week, Dean and Cas pretend to be a normal couple.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eternal Addiction

**Author's Note:**

> Fairythingsandgossamerwings posted a challenge and I was inspired! Here's what they posted: http://fancythingsandgossamerwings.tumblr.com/post/147186411074/so-this-is-a-movie-poster-thing-that-i-made-i-was
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr at http://phangirlpenguin.tumblr.com/

Thursdays are Dean’s favorite. For twenty-four hours, he hands the duties of the ruler of Hell over to a few of the most trustworthy demons (none of them are truly trustworthy, but some are less likely to revolt than others) and makes his way to Earth. There’s a little cottage, deep in the woods in the middle of nowhere.It’s filled to the brim with earthly delights: movies, beer, the fixings for burgers, a special massage chair, and most importantly, a single blue-eyed angel. 

Cas always makes it first. He says it’s because angels are more trustworthy, so finding replacements for himself is easier. Dean is pretty sure it’s because Heaven is much more boring. How hard can it be to keep people in their respective corners? Hell has to contend with escapees, after all. Either way, it means Dean can come home to his angel each week. Home. He’s lived in and ruled Hell for centuries at this point, but the cottage is home. It has his favorite mementos, his memory foam bed, and of course, his angel. 

There’s a soft light glowing from the window when Dean gets to the cottage. He can’t help the smile that pulls at the corners of his lips. Sometimes, Cas will be outside waiting for him to arrive, but when he’s not, when there’s a single lamp lit, Dean knows he’s coming home to a rumpled, sleep-mussed angel. Both of them pretend for these scant few hours to be human, to be “normal”. 

Dean uses his powers to quietly unlock the door. If he’s nearly silent, he’ll be able to catch Cas dozing on the couch. And he adores that sight. Cas is laying on his side, one arm curled under his head, a familiar tan trench coat draped over him like a blanket. Dean takes in the view for a moment, feeling more at peace, more settled than any other time. He kneels next to the couch and presses a soft kiss to Cas’ cheek. 

The angel grumbles at being woken, but his eyes soften as he takes in Dean. “Hello, Dean.”

“Hey, sweetheart,” Dean says. “Work tire you out today?”

Cas gives a drowsy nod. 

Dean runs a hand through dark locks. “You stay here, I’ll go fix dinner. Burgers sound good to you?”

Another nod. “And those spiced potatoes, maybe? I particularly enjoy them.”

“Of course, sweetheart. I’ll come get you when they’re ready.”

Cas smiles and curls back into his nesting spot. Dean gives him one last kiss before moving to the kitchen. Cooking has always centered Dean. Food was sometimes hard to come by as a kid, so full meals were a rarity to be savored. Now, he doesn’t even need to eat, but the acts of preparing ingredients, cooking them to perfection and sharing a meal are still a comfort. The potatoes need to roast in the oven for the longest, so he makes them first. He throws together a quick salad, even now hearing Sam bitching to eat something healthy. Last are the burgers, lightly seasoned and formed and thrown in a skillet.

About ten minutes before everything is finished, Cas wanders in. Dean’s not surprised. They get so little time together, they try not to waste it. He cuddles close to Dean at the stove, tucking his head into the demon’s neck and inhaling his scent. 

“Missed you.” Cas mumbles.

Dean scoops the burgers out of the skillet and onto the waiting platter. He turns around to wrap his arms around Cas. “I missed you, too, sweetheart.”

Neither of them can say who starts the kiss. After so long together, they seem to move in sync. The kiss is gentle but hungry. Languid tongues invading mouths, arms tight around each other. They only break apart when the oven timer dings. Dean grabs the potatoes as Cas sets the table. Finally, after a long week apart, they sit down to eat together.

They make small talk, cursory information about their respective realms. Nothing too in-depth, that would break the illusion of normality. Dean saves the only question that matters for last.

“Is Sam still doing all right?” Dean had known Sam would go to Heaven when he died and honestly wouldn’t have had it any other way. But he still missed his brother like he would miss an arm.

“Of course, Dean,” Cas says, same as every week. “He still ‘heaven hops’, as you call it, and has made many friends. He also asks about you regularly.”

Dean nods, pained. He hates that Sammy worries about him; it may be the worst part of being a demon and ruler of Hell. But it’s made life on Earth safer, having a non-sociopath in charge downstairs. And Dean’s so tainted he’s sure he’d never make it to Heaven, even if he did take Cas up on his offer to “cure” him. Some parts suck, but it’s better this way.

They clean the dishes and kitchen together in companionable silence. The big plush couch is calling their names. Dean sits sideways, Cas snuggled close. Quiet pulses around them, only the sounds of birds and the wind can be heard. They revel in the peace their lives regularly deny them. 

After a while, Dean twists slightly to pull something from the side table drawer: a small gift wrapped box. He hands it nonchalantly as he can to Cas. Cas raises an eyebrow but accepts it nonetheless. He carefully tears the paper to reveal a jewelry box. Nestled inside is a ring: a thin band of silver, shaped like a sewing needle. 

“It’s beautiful, Dean. But why?”

Dean chuckles. “It’s our anniversary. I know it doesn’t mean much to you, marking dates like this, but I’m glad for every year we have together.”

Cas smiles and gives Dean a quick kiss. “Why a needle?”

“Some days… Some days you’re the only thing holding me together. You’ve stitched me up, literally and figuratively so many times. I thought it was appropriate.”

Bright blue eyes fill with emotion. “I love it.” 

They spend more time on the couch, soaking in each other’s presence and heat. Around midnight they go to their bedroom at the back of the cottage. The bed is made with luxurious emerald green sheets (Cas’ favorite) and a plush comforter. Both of them are quiet as they change into pajamas. They may sleep tonight. They may not. The ritual is the important part.

Dean crawls into bed first, flipping back the comforter and sheets for Cas to follow suit. This week is Dean’s turn as the little spoon, so Cas opens his arms to pull his lover close. They lay close, their heartbeats and breaths syncing up. Few others may understand their relationship, but it is like a drug that keeps them sane. An addiction they never wish to escape.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are love!


End file.
